


Practice Makes Perfect

by alessandralee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Undercover, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/pseuds/alessandralee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma's undercover skills could use some work, so Ward takes her out to practice as a couple out for their anniversary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Makes Perfect

“Reservation for two under Timothy Swift,” he tells the hostess.

“It’s our anniversary,” his date pipes up from just behind him.

He softly squeezes her arm to let her know she’s overdoing it. She shoot him an apologetic look when the hostess turns around to lead them to their table.

They’ve been undercover for less than five minutes, and she’s already doing it wrong. No wonder Grant had said she needed help. She’d agreed, of course, assuming he’d give her some sort of lecture on how to develop the most hole-proof cover. Instead, he’d dropped a slinky dress on her bed and told her to do her makeup and meet him in front of their hotel in thirty minutes.

He spent the twenty-minute car ride to the restaurant explaining their cover. And then he opened her door and class started. It was almost happening too fast for her to panic.

Almost. She was definitely panicking now.

‘Just focus, you can do this. Don’t go overboard. Don’t lay it on too thick. Don’t trip over your own feet before you reach the table,’ she mentally gives herself a pep talk. Anna Reed did not seem like the type to stumble in heels. And tonight she was Anna Reed.

The hostess leads them to a table in the back corner of the dimly lit dining room. It’s very private and it occurs to Jemma that Grant had probably requested it to make sure they had the privacy they needed. If she wasn’t already so nervous, she might even find it romantic. 

Grant pulls out her chair and she takes a seat. In the process of reaching for the menu currently laid out across her plate, she notices a single red rose laying to the right of it. Apparently Timothy Swift was quite the romantic boyfriend.

“Oh sweetie, you should have. I love it,” she coos, holding up the rose.

Before she can second-guess her pet name of choice or the tone of her voice, he gives her a reassuring smile.

She can do this. It’s not impossible.

“I’m glad you like it.”

When Jemma opens up her menu, the first thing she notices is the prices. It takes effort for her not to gasp out load. They’re in a small midwestern town, she would never have imagined a restaurant here charging so much. SHIELD will probably not be thrilled about footing the bill for this.

As she looks the menu over, she briefly considers the possibility that Anna might be a vegetarian. That would be interesting. Almost immediately, the image of a disapproving Ward pops into her head. That probably qualifies as overdoing it. She orders the salmon instead.

Dinner goes surprisingly well. She catches herself in the middle of telling their waitress about Anna’s summers in the south of France, and aside from that Grant only has to glare at her twice. Apparently, her lengthy diatribe on her mother’s trip to visit a sick aunt in Nottingham is unnecessary, and Anna, a middle school history teacher, shouldn’t be able to bring up electrophoresis in conversation. 

She’s most proud of the fact that at no point during dinner does she freeze up. That was her biggest fear of all, being undercover and not knowing what to say or do. She doesn’t accidentally call Grant by his real name, which is another plus. And she even gets to enjoy a decadent slice of chocolate cake without her nerves ruining it. All in all, she labels the night a success.

They stay in character on the ride home, him asking her about the test she gave her students last week, and her inquiring into his co-workers at the bank. Jemma never realized how much she knew about banking, until that knowledge is being put to the test.

Once again, he opens the car door for her, and wraps his arm around her shoulders as he escorts her through the hotel lobby. She decides to enjoy the moment, and slips her hand around the back of his well-tailored suit before leaning up against him. They stay like this for the elevator ride to the fourth floor, the quietest part of their entire evening. 

Neither of them breaks character when the elevator door opened, walking hand in hand to the door of her room.

“So I guess this is the end of our night,” he tells her.

“I had a wonderful time. Definitely an anniversary to remember.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

What comes over her next, she can’t explain. Maybe Anna is just more bold than Jemma is.

“You mean Timothy takes Anna out for an elegant anniversary meal, and he doesn’t even kiss her goodnight?” she teases.

“Jemma,” he says, his voice low and quiet, “I’m not going to force you to kiss me on a practice run. We can drop the covers now.”

“Fine, no kiss for Anna. But will Jemma get a goodnight kiss from Grant?”

The question hangs in the air as he gapes at her, trying to gauge her sincerity. Jemma briefly regrets being so bold.

But then his lips are pressing against hers gently, as if he’s still not one hundred percent sure she wasn’t just teasing him. She leans into him slight, returning the kiss. That must give him the confirmation he needs, because he moves his hands to cradle her face, pulling her even closer. The pressure of his lips increases, and focuses in on her bottom lip. She rises onto her toes and her hands grab fistfuls of his shirt, bother to help keep herself balance and to make sure he’s as close as he can possibly be.

She takes charge of the kiss, opening her mouth enough to take his top lip between both of hers. His hands trail slowly down her body to her waist and he inches her backwards until she’s flush against the door. Her brain briefly registers that this is much more comfortable position, but then his teeth graze lightly across her mouth and all she can think of is his lips, his hands, and the heat coming off of his body.

She’s not sure how long they’ve been like this when he slowly pulls away. They freeze briefly, mouths inches from each other, until Jemma regains her bearings.

“Goodnight Grant,” she whispers, unable to suppress her grin.

“Goodnight Jemma.”

She fits the keycard into the reader on her door, entering the room and immediately shedding her heels.

It’s a couple of minutes before she hears his footsteps making their way down the hall to his room.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day Three of Ward x Simmons Ship Week on tumblr for the prompt "undercover."


End file.
